Blooming Seasons?

Certainly. Why not think of your life as a tree or a shrub that has as many blooming seasons as years of life it may have. That is exactly how I see myself. Human beings go through a series of developmental stages; each with its "blooming" peak. I've gone through many already, and after a period of self doubt, grief, and even guilt, I believe I'm starting a new developmental stage that will, of course, in time have its own blooming season. Many women at my age feel that there is nothing else to live for: children are gone; grandchildren aren't close; loneliness is part of everyday; physical beauty is no longer; sex is out of the question; and you only live waiting to die any day. Not me. Eventhough I'm no beauty queen and age has done its toil on my body, I still feel full of life and energy and I would welcome love in my life again. Loneliness is another thing. I'm battling loneliness with Salsa dancing lessons, oil painting, reading, writing, gardening and hanging out, even if it's alone. Yes, my children are gone and they have their own families to take care. The good thing is that now I get to take care of myself, like spending a whole afternoon pampering myself in a beauty salon and spa; watching what I want to watch on the TV; eating what I want and just doing anything else that I want to do.

Full House

My house is alive with the sounds of love and life. I'm having a full house of girls for three weeks. My second daughter, my daughter inlaw and my two granddaughters, ages 4 and 4 months. We have all girl mornings and all girl nights. It's all about feeling, talking, laughing, playing, cooking, eating, hugging, and kissing. Of course, my name is now Grandma This and Grandma That, or Mom Here and Mom What. It's invigorating beyond anything I can think. Being in the short moments of watching your granddaughters grow and start becoming into what they will is like watching a good magician do his tricks. The magic of learning and thinking has always fascinated me. Watching it happen makes me be part of the magic.

A Kiss and a Hug

It's been over a year now... Just yesterday, my five year old grandson went to his mother, who was folding towels, and told her:

    - "Mommy, I miss Abuelo Juan."

    - "Well baby, I miss him too. You know he's in heaven watching over us and he  

      is so proud of you".

   - "But I miss him so much! I want to give him a hug and a kiss, and I can't. I know  

      he can't come down from heaven to see me".

   - "Yes, I know, honey".

   - "Whose dad is he, mommy?"

   - "Come on, you know he's your father's dad".

   - "Mom, do you think Dad misses his father as badly as I miss him?"

Wow! Talking about missing and hugging and kissing...

Identity Crisis

During what I felt was a lifetime, I was called by many names: some related to being a mom, others to being my husband's wife, still others related to my teaching career, and some endearing terms. However, all were related somehow to my married status. Nearing the end of this lifetime of  "marriagehood", I lost all the mom, mami, mama names and just became mom at a distance. My nest was empty. Later, I believe I earned the new name of grandma and that has been my new name since.
Then, for reasons beyond my control, death took my lifetime companion and I lost not only my married status, but all the names attached to it, and even more: I suddenly lost my life purpose as a married woman. I was no longer a Mrs. This or Mrs. That. All I had left was my career, my aging parents, and sometimes my brother and sister, and at other times my children and grandchildren. So, who am I now?
Well, anyone can argue that you are what you do and that your identity shouldn't be tied to anyone person or circumstances. But at the end of the day, you are still defined by what you do and what I do has changed drastically. No more caring for another loving human being; no more togtherness; no more cooking for him; no more sipping the morning coffee in bed together; no more looking into his deep light green eyes and wondering if he still loves me; no more doing things together.....
The house became a mausoleum, a shrine to my memories of him. The loss hurts; but the my memories of us together and of him hurt even more. Then again, knowing that each day that goes by there is a little less of him is like losing him again many times over. Later, I had to get rid of the mausoleum feel. According to popular wisdom, in order to start healing and accepting a totally new life, everything that was him had to go. Hmm! Not every single thing of course.

People say that it takes time. Yes, I guess that is how it works. I mean, there are a lot of surviving widows around and they seem well adjusted and even happy. I will probably get there too. Maybe I'm getting there right now.

Life Changes: Reinventing

Life has brought so many changes in my life, that at times I think I've been targeted for complete transformation...and more so... After having almost surpassed the stage of the empty nest, all of a sudden I became a widow without expecting it. Then came the mourning, the remembering, the mourning, the denial and the expecting; then again, the mourning; the identity issue, more mourning,  more remembering; and then accepting that he would never, ever, come home. And then came the moment when I started establishing new goals. Just after sixty: learning to reinvent myself.